Pain
by MJLS
Summary: Shuffling his feet, Tony slowly walked out of the bathroom, disregarding the small pieces of mirror still stuck in his hand or his head throbbing from the pain coming up. His fingers massaged his temple as he threw himself on the bed.


Tears fell down his cheeks as he sat down on the ground. His head in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly from the impact of his crying. His cheeks wet from the salty tears falling while his eyes were already red and puffy. Wiping away the tears on the long sleeve of his green hoodie, he stood up and took a deep breath, trying to realize where he was and how he got here in the first place. Maybe he shouldn't have cried, after all, it was a sign of weakness and everyone knew how much he detested looking weak.

The room he was in was somewhat familiar, the drapes were hanging over the windows so no light was streaming in the (usually pretty bright) room. The light was turned off, only making the room seem darker. He sighed, stretching his legs and using his hands as a support to push his body up so he could stand up. He knew the room out of his head. Just behind him was the king sized bed, the blankets of which were in a mess but the warmth of the night had long disappeared. Behind the door in front of him was the bathroom, a nicely lit room with both a bath and a shower.

His feet made their way towards the bathroom, opening the door softly and turning on the light. His eyes squinting against the brightness before they got used to it and opened bit by bit. Leaning on the counter, his reflection in the mirror looked back at him with a face full of small wounds, a large head wound on his right side and a split lip. His eyes, red and puffy from the crying earlier, were contrasting his otherwise pale skin while the dried up blood had formed a small crust around the wounds.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, looking away from his reflection and looking down at his hands, his knuckles slightly turning paler by the second as his grip on the counter got stronger. He glared at them before throwing a punch at the mirror, letting it shatter in several sharp pieces, the smaller ones stuck in his hand.

"Fuck," he muttered, looking at his hand and seeing blood seep out of the wounds that the mirror had made in his glass, the pieces reflecting the light from above. Quickly, his free hand that was holding up the wounded one let the water fall down in the sink before he quickly pushed the wounded hand under the cold water.

"Tony? You okay?" a voice came from behind the door before knocking softly on it. It was a male's voice but it was so soft and caring that tears sprang back in the man's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he managed to stutter out before wincing at his attempt to get the pieces of mirror out of his hand. After getting the bigger pieces out, he just decided to let the small ones in, too lazy to nitpick them out of his skin. Even if he knew that it could cause an infection.

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm _fine _Steve," Tony glared at the door, knowing well enough that Steve couldn't see it but he didn't really care. It made him feel better.

"Alright if you say so, but you had some pretty serious wounds from the fight earlier," Steve trailed off, his voice sounding weaker by the second as he was probably moving to sit on the bed, waiting until Tony would come out of the bathroom.

"I told you, I'm_ fine_," Tony grumbled, more to himself than to Steve.

"I believe you," Steve's silent voice came back from behind the door. Tony looked surprised at the door for a moment before sighing and splashing some of the still running water on his face, hissing slightly in pain when the coldness reached the wounds and washed all the dried up blood away. Sighing deeply, Tony looked back at himself in the mirror, the dried up blood was gone but the wounds had turned red around the edges and his eyes were sunken into his skull, deep bruises surrounding them from the lack of sleep. He cheeks were slightly turning hollow, proving that once again, he had forgotten to eat while locking himself up in his lab.

"Tony," Steve's voice rang through the room again, closer to the door again, "talk to me."

"No," Tony chocked up, fresh tears springing in his eyes before he quickly wiped them away from his eyes with his sleeve.

"You're hurt, let me take care of you."

"I can do it myself," Tony shot back, once again glaring at the door.

"At least come outside so I can see how serious they are, you might need stitches."

"I don't Steve, now just leave me alone."

"Alright," Steve said, "if you say so."

If Tony could see through doors, he would've probably seen Steve shrug and stare at the door for a few more moments before leaving the room, knowing that Tony wouldn't come out anyway no matter how hard he pressed on the matter. In reality, Tony just wanted Steve to stay, for him to break down the door and comfort him. But his mind pushed the blond man away while his heart ached for contact between them.

He trusted his mind more than his heart right now. So he would just be rational and push everyone away, most probably by locking himself up in the lab for a few days with only his armor and robots as company. Of course, either Jarvis or Steve, (Tony always hoped it would be Steve and most of the time it was) would end up coming down to the lab with either food or the good intention to at least get him upstairs so he could sleep in a bed instead of falling asleep with his head on his desk from overworking.

"Tony? Are you alright?" Jarvis' voice came from behind the door.

"No," Tony softly whispered, sinking down so he was once again sitting on the floor with his knees propped up to his chest and his head in his hands, fingers trailing through his dark hair.

"Oh Tony," Jarvis sighed, probably shaking his head too, "you shouldn't lock yourself up like this, it's perfectly normal to be hurt."

"I'm not hurt," Tony grumbled, glaring at the floor as if the tiles had done something wrong to him.

"With that I mean both mentally _and_ physically Tony," Jarvis said in the calm voice he always seemed to possess.

"There's nothing wrong with me Jarvis."

"Tony, this was the first mission that someone got killed during the rescue, everyone is broken up about it."

"Then leave _me _alone and go tend to the others, I'm telling you, as I told Steve earlier, I'm _fine_," Tony half-yelled. Probably making the old man jump up from the sudden raise of voice. He heard Jarvis sigh behind the door and then walk out of the room.

"Damn it," Tony whispered again, blinking back tears, "I can't even control my own fucking emotions anymore, let alone the suit."

The mission earlier, had indeed ended up with a few deaths. Not by the hand of villains, but at the hands of the Avengers, everyone was broken up about it but things like that were bound to happen. They just never expected it. Tony felt like he was the one to blame the most, after all, the people had been walking straight in his line of fire and were hit slightly by his repulsor blasts. Steve had kept reassuring him that it wasn't his fault during their trip home but Tony still didn't believe him. If he had just waited 5 more seconds to fire at the villain behind the people, they might've lived.

"Tony?"

Tony looked up from the floor, straight in the eyes of Janet Van Dycke. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly wiped away the tears again and kept focused on the floor. Janet sat down next to him and threw her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in a hug. Tony didn't really care how she got in the bathroom in the first place when neither Jarvis or Steve could but what did he care. She was there now and that was that.

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered against the crown of his head as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, tears falling down from his cheeks.

"Fuck yeah it was," Tony muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the position he was in, "I mean, they got hurt by _my _repulsor blasts didn't they?"

"They saw that you were going to fire, they just thought they had enough time to get across the street before you did. You couldn't have predicted it."

"The explosion following after killed them though, and that explosion was caused by me and me alone," Tony bit his lip, guilt taking over his senses.

"You're not to blame Tony," Janet shook her head and ran her long fingers through his dark messy hair, smiling at him even though he couldn't see it with his face buried between her neck and shoulder.

"The family might not think like that Janet."

"Another lawsuit, another day," Janet shrugged softly, "we can back you up alright?"

"Yeah I, guess so," Tony sighed, "Pepper won't like it though."

"She'll just have to deal with it," Janet nodded, "now, do you want to talk to Steve or want me to tell him I send you to bed to rest?"

"Tell him that I went to bed but that he can come in if he wants to talk to me anyway, he knows how long I take to fall asleep."

"Your body is worn out from the fight remember? Don't try to stay awake for too long," Janet kissed the top of his head before standing up with Tony, smiling at him and then caressing his cheek with her thumb.

"You're a good man Tony Stark," she whispered before giving his cheek a peck and walking out of the bathroom.

Shuffling his feet, Tony slowly walked out of the bathroom, disregarding the small pieces of mirror still stuck in his hand or his head throbbing from the pain coming up. His fingers massaged his temple as he threw himself on the bed, his face staring at the ceiling while his eyes were forced shut in an attempt to block the headache.

"Tony?"

"I'm here," Tony muttered, "just have a killer headache."

"Figured as much, Janet told me you looked sort of bad so I brought you some Advil," Steve crossed the room and stood at Tony's side of the bed with in his one had the Advil and in his other one a glass of water.

"Come on," Steve urged, "take it, it'll make you feel better and you'll sleep easier."

"I fucked up today Steve," Tony looked at Steve with still some traces of tears in his eyes.

"Stop that," Steve put down the glass and the Advil on the small table next to the bed and put a hand over Tony's mouth, "you're not to blame alright?"

"But-"

"No but's Tony," Steve interrupted, "you are _not _to blame."

Tony nodded before Steve removed his hand and took up the Advil again, "come on, now take it, I mean it, It'll make you feel better."

Not daring to use his voice, Tony just nodded again and picked up the small pill before swallowing it dry and then drinking some sips of the water Steve had brought.

"Thanks," Tony smiled, laying down on the bed again, one of his arms thrown over his forehead and his eyes closed, letting the painkiller take away the throbbing headache.

"Any time," Steve smiled, crawling in bed next to Tony and throwing the thick blankets over the both of them. His strong arms hugging Tony around his waist before his lips kissed the side of his neck. Tony shifted in his sleep, burying his head in Steve's chest as he fell asleep under the influence of the painkiller combined with the tiredness coming from the battle.

"You're a damn good man Tony Stark," Steve whispered, brushing some of Tony's dark locks out of his eyes and then pressing his lips against his forehead, "and don't you dare to forget it."

"I won't," Tony muttered in his sleep.

"Good."

* * *

  
**Disclaimer : **I don't own anything, just wrote this one because I felt like it.  
**A/N : **I have no idea how the blasts that come from Iron Man's gauntlets are called, I think I heard "repulsor" somewhere but I'm not sure, I wrote that however so yeah. Hope you people enjoy my first Steve/Tony oneshot...


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